Something Breaks
by Totally Uninspired Name
Summary: Punk leaves, Dean breaks. One-shot after the Rumble. Slash and light mention of sub/dom relationships. Don't like it, don't read it. Rated M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Something Breaks

I own nothing.

Post Royal Rumble 2014:

The agitation had started to subside, but not by much. Still dressed in his ring gear, Dean Ambrose stalked the halls purposefully. Wrestlers and crew alike ducked out of his way and avoided eye contact. He knew why; he was on edge. His eyes flashed dangerously and he twitched and muttered an assortment of s. In any other scenario, he would have come across as psychotic. Here he was simply Dean Ambrose, psychotic wrestler. It wasn't particularly comforting.

Everything was up in the air. The pay per view had not gone over as well as senior management were hoping. As a result, most people were running around like nervous chickens. In addition, the break-up of the Shield was imminent. Even though it was scripted, Roman's betrayal still stung and left a bad taste in his mouth, or maybe that was the seven or eight cigarettes he had chain smoked after his elimination. He was unsettled, he was looking for trouble; he needed something to take the edge off. He needed something to break him and restore what passed for his inner balance. For a brief shining moment, he considered going to Seth, but that wasn't enough. Seth wasn't a dom. He wasn't in between the roles; he was a natural born sub and that just wouldn't cut it. Not to mention he was supposed to be involved with Orton. That could get messy. Plus, it had been a couple of years, back in NXT. Here it could make things complicated.

Finally coming down an abandoned hallway, Dean turned and punched the wall, kicking his black boots against it the cold tiles and growling in frustration. He could go get drunk, he could go on the self-destruct. Win win scenario after all. He needed something…. He needed-

Who was he kidding? He knew exactly what it was and didn't want to admit it. He wanted to be fucked. He wanted pounded through the floor and pushed to his limits and then pushed just a little more. He could switch roles easily enough but now wasn't the time. He needed the discipline, he needed to be put back in his place. But to have the experience he craved, he had to be sober.

That was the condition. On the roster there were only a few pure doms. The best, ironically, was the self-proclaimed best in the world. But, Punk had conditions. He would play, but not while the sub was drunk or intoxicated. Dean had had a hard time convincing him to play. Punk held his ground and because of that, Dean had been sober for four months while they played beneath the sheets, well figuratively speaking. Relations in the WWE usually meant a bed wasn't available.

They were official and then they weren't. Most 'couples' weren't official in the strictest sense. Seth and Randy were the exception to the rule. The younger man was the only one who could keep the Viper calm and Randy was extremely possessive. Apparently Seth had been collared and claimed before the end of their first night, or so the locker room story went.

Punk and Dean took what they needed and had agreed to it until it was no longer satisfactory. But Punk called the shots right down the middle. Dean was OK with that, and he was totally OK with seeking out what he wanted. And of course, he was totally OK with pretending the sex was all he wanted. After all, it wasn't as if Punk did the exact same thing for his insanity that Seth did for Randy's. It wasn't as if he felt warm on the few occasions that Punk kissed him. It wasn't as if he would gasp Phil, not Punk, as he came hard.

It was safer to pretend. It was safer to pretend everything. Phil fixed what was broken in him. The sobriety wasn't a reflex to Punk's control, or a testament to Dean's seldom seen submissive side. No, it was because at least that way, Dean felt worthy of Phil's touch. It was a way to feel close to him. It wasn't love, not really. Dean wasn't stupid enough to think himself in love with Punk, but he didn't just feel the physical side either. It was the small things that Punk did; the grazes against his skin in public, letting him sleep in the same room, even if they weren't fucking that night, and the look in his eyes. The look that said, _I understand_. The look that said, they got each other, and he would protect that. It was a look that said you give me as much as I give you. But it wasn't love. Complete and mutual dependence. Anyone asked Dean, that would be how he defined it. Punk felt the same, he just knew it.

His search for the straight-edged superstar was taking longer than he would have liked. Every second, the feelings in him continued to boil and he stopped to calm himself several times. He looked around the still busy canteen. Randy had Seth on his lap, the smaller man grinding mercilessly into his lover as Randy devoured his mouth. Dean groaned inwardly; the sight was a complete turn-on. Where the hell was Punk?

"Hey Dean", Roman's voice burst his thought bubble and Dean turned to see the Samoan wrestler with his two cousins, Jimmy and Jey. The faces of the three were flushed and excited; it had been a good pay per view for Roman and his family hadn't stopped calling.

"Hey, uh, have you guys seen Punk"?

"Last I saw he was heading to management to see H and Steph. I wouldn't though if I were you. Sounds like he's in a mood", Roman took a swig of his water and regarded his teammate silently. He knew that look.

"Thanks man, later", Dean fist-bumped Roman and nodded to the twins before taking off down the hall.

The hallway outside the office was deserted. Voices came from inside. Dean just huffed and jumped up on a couple of crates. After a moment, he felt his blood chill.

"_Fuck this shit. This is bull and you know it"!_

"_Punk, it's what is best for business"._

"_Best for business my ass! Take a look at your audience Hunter! You have let this go too far, just trying to relive your old glory days! You are running this business into the ground"!_

At that point, too many voices started overlapping. Dean hopped off the crates and walked closer to the door, folding his arms across his chest. Suddenly it felt cold.

"_Everybody just shut it, for five minutes. Punk, you know"-_

"_No Vince, I don't know. I don't get it and I don't want to get it. I've had enough, I'm going home"._

"_For how long"?_

"_For good. I'm done"._

More voices started up. Dean could hear Hunter and Stephanie arguing, Vince pleading with Punk, and Punk- Phil was just repeating it. _I'm done, I'm going home._

The voices continued for a few more minutes. Then the door was yanked open and Punk stormed out. His face was dark and his bag was slung across his shoulder. His fists clenched and unclenched. He stalked to the exit at the other end of the corridor. He never noticed Dean. Punk was almost at the door until Dean remembered himself.

"Phil"!

Punk turned around. His expression never changed. For the first time, Dean felt himself falter.

"What do you want"?

"Where are you going"?

"Home. Thanks for the fuck sessions".

With that Punk turned and left.

Dean stared after him. He stared after him until he was sure he was gone. Then he stared some more. The door was open and the cool crisp air made his fingers numb. He didn't feel it. He didn't feel anything. Just cold again. Inside.

He didn't notice when Roman laid a hand on his shoulder. It'd been a couple of hours. Most of the roster had heard by now. Roman didn't say much, but he saw everything. He saw that dead look in Dean's eyes.

"Hey, you wanna get a beer"?

Dean nodded. "Drink sounds good".


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, decided to continue – please feel free to leave suggestions. Thanks for the reviews. Just a short chapter until I finish up some uni work, I would love to know what you think. Thanks in advance!

Once again, I own nothing. If I did, Orton would be the better heel viper we all know and love, and the Shield would stay together.

From the shadows, I watch you

For the next two weeks, Roman watched as Dean slowly self-destructed. Punk hadn't been heard from and the only news flying around was rumours. Punk was signing with TNA, he was going back to Ring of Honour, he had decided to move abroad, he was lying in a gutter somewhere, he decided to finally go for that role on Broadway…. Each one got more and more farfetched. But he had it on good authority; Punk was alive, in Chicago, pissed off and ignoring everyone except A.J. and Colt Cabana, and occasionally texting Kofi to check in on his bus, which was still driving around fuelling rumours that it was all part of a storyline. Even Hayman had spoken to him, he was trying his best to mend the rift between Punk and his employers. Of course, he had a lot to do with Punk. He hated seeing his career like this. He had had faith in the kid when no one else gave him a second thought.

Not once had Punk contacted Dean. Roman wasn't sure how many people knew about Punk and Dean, so he played it carefully. He couldn't outright ask anyone so he had to wait for the people with the gossip to approach him, which usually meant having to sit through about thirty minutes of crap before he got to hear what he wanted. He got some news, none of it was good. Punk had changed his number and e-mail, he had been pulled from all up- coming events and appearances and the only person he was speaking to in management was Vince.

What worried Roman more was that Dean had changed. He didn't mention Punk but he could see the haunted look in his eyes whenever someone mentioned him. He saw Dean scouring the internet in hotel rooms looking for any credence to any of the rumours. He watched as Dean became more and more withdrawn and unpredictable, not that he was a social butterfly to start with, but still. His matches were still great, his energy was still there, but he was reckless. He would push at opponents, only to be pushed back. He was begging for punishments, his submissive side was taking over, but it wasn't for a hit. It wasn't a sign he wanted someone else. It was a sign that he was breaking, and there wasn't anything there to hold him together. Seth couldn't do it, and Roman didn't have it in him, not where Dean was concerned. God, there was no one else.

Dean couldn't see it, he might have said he wasn't in love with Punk but there was no denying the truth. He was Punk's sub and Punk was the only one who could take him in hand. They might not define it as love, but very few dom/sub couples did. Punk cared for Dean, he knew it. So where the hell was he and why was Dean intent on punishing himself?

Roman's thoughts were broken as he felt a soft brush of lips against his forehead and the faintest tickle of facial hair.

"What's the crack, love"? Sheamus handed him a soda from the small kitchenette on the Shield's tour bus. In the back Dean was sleeping off the mother of all hangovers on the bunks. Randy was lying back on the couch with his headphones in while Seth dozed lightly on his chest. How Randy was still awake was beyond Roman. He thought they would never give it a rest the night before, five hours. He really needed to remember to buy earplugs. It hadn't bothered Shea though, the Irishman slept like the dead. He also was just back, so he didn't know about Dean and Punk. He just knew Dean had been more unstable than usual lately.

Roman forced a smile. "Nothing, thanks babe".

Shea just shrugged and settled down on Roman's lap on the other small couch across from the viper and the two-toned man who was currently curled up like a little baby. Sheamus never did push Roman. Of all the relationships, they had one that was perfectly balanced, neither dominate or submissive, they simply were. Roman couldn't help but wonder if that would cause problems further down the line.

His attention was drawn to the backroom by a guttural heaving and swearing. Sheamus cracked his head in the direction of the door wincing as the heaving stepped up. Randy creased his brow and removed his headphones. The movements jostled Seth and he blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

"Is that"-

A smash came from the bunks and a scream of frustration came from Dean's mouth. Eventually it died down, groans of pain and coughing echoing down the bus. Seth bit his lip and looked at the floor, fiddling with the hem of Randy's shirt. Shea and Randy switched a look of discomfort. Roman sighed and stood up. Truthfully, he almost blamed himself. He did suggest a drink after whatever happened between Punk and Dean. Hindsight could be a bitch.

"Guess he's awake then".


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing

Lying in my ashes

Dean's POV

You ever had one of those moments, where you wake up, head spinning, you throw up everything from last night and remember why you feel like complete crap? You let out a scream to clear your head, chase the junior migraine away and then have an epiphany, which leads you to open your big mouth and say something really profound?

Yeah, me neither.

Instead, it goes something like this; I wake up. My breath tastes like stale smokes and booze. The smell is clinging to my skin and I catch the remains of some cheap perfume courtesy of the floozy at the run-down, urine soaked hellhole I managed to fall into last night. Just when I think I can sink lower, check it out, a new level of low. The memory alone makes me gag; that starts the dizzy spells; Christ, I'm still drunk. Ever been at that place between drunk and sober? Trust me, you don't wanna be there. I can't remember much of last night. But I can remember why I was there.

And that is when the feelings come back. That is the precise moment, I lean over grab the plastic tub and attempt to turn myself inside out. Maybe if I'm lucky these feelings will just go away too. Spew them out with whatever I picked at from the show the night before, and the entire ocean of alcohol I consumed. Then flush them out, down the toilet, back into the sewer where all this crap belongs. But of course it just isn't that simple. I can't stop the scream of frustration. I don't care who is there to hear it. I don't care if Rome or Seth hear; I don't give two fucks if Randy and Shea are here- Try and mention it to me, I dare you, and I will end you. Same goes for you Dave or Darren, whatever your fucking name is; you get paid to drive not to look at me like I'm a drunk waste.

But maybe I am, that's what _he_ made me right? Thought we had it good, thought it was something else, thought I would just go with it. Let it all get too much Deano, all of it. And now, now I've ended up at the bottom of the barrel, just like my good-for-nothing drunk sperm donor and my crack-whore mother. This is what people do to you; this is how the world gets you.

"Fuck", the only thing I can mutter, cause there really isn't anything else left to say you know. And thus, the whole glorious cycle is once again complete. Dean goes drinking, Dean causes trouble, Dean gets hung-over – live and repeat. I put the basin on the floor and watch as the whole room sways slightly. It's not me, we're on the move again.

My jaw hurts. Must have gotten punched again. No doubt a fuckwit in some dead end bar again. Fuck me. Must really be bad this morning, my swearing is usually better than this. Fuck me… no wait… that was what got me into this mess.

Normal POV

Roman approached the messy blonde lump on the bed and put down a bottle of water and two painkillers. After a thought, he added a third.

"Bar owner was really impressed by the way; he told me he's never seen anyone get as wasted as you, or run at the mouth like you", Roman crossed his arms and looked down at Dean who pulled his pillow back over his head.

"Thanks for picking me up. Now get to fuck".

"Nope, not gonna happen". Roman reached down and picked up the basin and headed over the bathroom. Grimacing he disposed of the contents quickly and returned to the room. He pulled the blanket and pillow off Dean and yanked him out of the bed.

"What the fuck man? Get off me"! Dean stumbled and shouted. Thank whatever gods were out there he was still too drunk to fight properly. A drunk, aggressive Dean was bad enough but a drunk aggressive Dean who was still able to throw a clear punch? Didn't really bear thinking about. Roman tossed Dean towards the bathroom.

Dean fell to his knees and started hurling down the toilet again.

"Wash up, brush your teeth, get dressed and get your ass out here. You have got a lot to make up for and I want you to mean it".

Dean just slumped back, too tired to argue. Roman's gaze softened slightly and he retrieved the bottle and pills.

"Here".

Dean just took them wordlessly. There wasn't any point in fighting back.

"Twenty minutes, or I will drag you out myself. Oh and Dean, don't even think about looking for any bourbon. I had Danny toss it all". The door clicked shut.

"Fuck you Danny".


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing

Hi, finally Punk makes an appearance. Would love to know how you all think this is progressing – kinda new to this, so any suggestions would be great. Should probably point out, some of the wrestling events will be slightly AU; mainly because I had a couple of things I wanted to include and thought it might work out storyline wise. Thanks for the follows and reviews!

Lying in this void I made myself

"_Please sir, don't stop"…_

"_Show me you want this Ambrose". His hands slipped over muscular shoulders as he forced the sub to his knees._

_Phil moaned as the blonde wrapped soft lips around his hard cock. When he deep-throated him, Phil screamed. Dean massaged Phil's balls and his rhythm became more intense. His grip tightened in Dean's tussled hair. Fuck, so close-_

Phil woke with a scream dying on his lips. His orgasm had been hard, and his heart raced.

"Morning".

Phil blinked and looked down the bed. He forced a smile onto his lips and tried to ignore the surge of disappointment that rushed through his mind. Of course it was just a dream. The brunette between his legs proceeded to lick him clean, humming to himself.

"Good way to wake up"?

Punk forced himself to answer Colt's question. "Yeah. Best way".

"And that's why you wake up screaming someone else's name"?

Phil squeezed his eyes shut and hissed. "Scott, I"-

"Hey", Colt shuffled back up to the top of the bed and laid down next to Punk. "It's OK, no strings remember"?

For as long as they had wrestled together, the pair had always offered each other release when they needed it. No strings, no attachments, no lies. It was easier for Punk this way; he didn't want to get his heart broken again. It had been shattered one too many times.

"You should call him".

"Nah, he was just a fuck-buddy. It's nothing, I'll get over it".

Colt sighed and kicked up off the bed and headed to the bathroom. Every morning, same old answer. Punk just lay there, staring at the ceiling. His alarm buzzed with the morning news, and he slammed his hand down on it.

_Five, four, three, two one- right on cue._

His phone blasted "Cult of Personality" and he answered it without looking at the I.D.

"Hello Vince".

It had been thirty minutes; so much for dragging him out.

Dean felt the bus move beneath him as he traced the bruise on his jaw and looked at his exhausted eyes.

_How long can you keep going on like this?_

How long did infatuation last? That was it right? That was all it was. Punk didn't want him and he definitely wasn't in love with the guy. He refused to be. Simple.

_Don't blame Punk; you were broken before this. So broken, all you needed was one final push before you snapped apart completely. _

Dean turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face. He looked up, the droplets falling over his eyes and dashing against the smooth sink.

_Face it, this is where you have been heading all your life. Punk was just the catalyst. Who wants a fucked up freak?_

His hands were shaking. Everything was shaking, where were they? He looked around the small bathroom. No they weren't here. They weren't here. Fuck, he needed them. Now.

The bus jilted suddenly and Dean flew against the sink. He grunted as he regained his balance and knocked over a few things. A razor fell into the sink.

If you have ever been at the bottom of a chasm, you would know how this goes. Everything slows down. He can't hear anything outside. He vaguely remembered saying he was fine when Roman asked. He doesn't hear the drip of the tap, and the sound of the engine dies out as well. The razor is sitting at the bottom of that sink. A bit of water has collected and the ripples dance around the blades. It's like a jewel at the bottom of a lake. It's clear and precise and tempting. You want to reach in and pull it out, but you hesitate. Because you know, you know it doesn't work that way. He reaches in, he doesn't pull it out. He gets pulled in. It doesn't matter how much he screams and kicks; he wouldn't get out again. He was a junkie and this was his fix; he was one cut away from opening the gates and letting his demons out.

_Maybe you should. Let's face it, it isn't like anyone would care is it?_

Dean closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

He traded the immovable object for the unstoppable force. The unstoppable force being Roman's mother-hen/wrath when one of his boys screwed up. Three unimpressed and stern faces glared at him when he finally emerged from the back. Despite the warmth of the bus, Dean had dressed in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a thick dark shirt that he had pulled around himself like a second skin. He couldn't help but notice that Seth wouldn't meet his eye.

"Uh, hi"?

"Sit down". Roman's eyes flashed. Okay….so evidently he had screwed up somehow.

Dean sank wearily into the last remaining chair in the small seating area. The fact that it was smack bang between the couch with angry couple number one and the love seat with angry couple number two was not lost on him.

"First", Roman started. "You owe Seth an apology".

"Why"? Randy jolted up off the chair, only to be held back by Seth who was whispering frantically in his ear. Right, so asking why wasn't the best response to that. Bravo Dean.

Eventually, Randy got a hold of himself and sat with Seth, who securely had his arms fastened around the viper's torso; partly as a precaution, partly out of affection. Either way, it had the desired result.

"Long story short, you propositioned him and when he said no, you said some really shit things. Given that Ran has a rage issue"-

"Hey, what the hell"-

"Given that he has a rage issue", Roman continued fixing Randy with a stern glare, "I am not going to repeat them, but you should know what you said". With that, he handed Dean a piece of paper that was filled with various names and statements, front and back.

Dean took a breath and read through it. Okay, standard names, bitch, cock-sucking diva, uptight little whore etc. etc. Yeah, there wasn't much bad here. Flipping the paper over, he visibly paled. Shit… The last one hit home. Seth's parents had disowned him when they discovered their baby boy was not only gay, but a sub. It was a delicate subject, and a tough time. Randy became Seth's entire support base, and gave him what his family took away. And Dean had just belittled all of that with one sentence… The hurt look in Sethie's eyes; oh fuck, here came the nausea again.

"Seth, I am so sorry". The two-toned man just shrugged and gave him a faint smile.

"It's alright".

"No, it's not". Oh Christ, Randy was in full Dom mode. "You ever speak to him like that again, you look at him the wrong way, and I will pull out your intestines and force-feed them to you. We clear"?

"Crystal". Dean looked down at his clenched hands. "Guess I deserved this huh"? He gestured to his jaw.

"Yeah, and believe me, I could have done worse", Randy bit back venomously.

"This needs to stop Dean", Roman fixed him with a glare. "I'm serious, I see you in that state again, I will take this to Hunter".

Dean nodded numbly. "I'll stop".

"You got a lot of making up to do and- oh shit". Roman knocked his glass of water onto the floor where it shattered. He started picking up the pieces and then hissed.

"Come here love", Shea grabbed some tissues and put pressure on his lover's palm to stop the bleeding. It wasn't deep but it soaked through quick enough. Seth got up and passed them the first aid kit. Sheamus started to clean the cut and cast the bloody tissues on the table.

"Bit clumsy today Rome", Seth stretched out next to Randy and turned to look at Dean. His friend was transfixed by the tissues and his breathing was unsettled.

_It'd be so easy…_

"Dean, are you alright"?

"Yeah", he mumbled. "Just feeling a bit- I'm going back to bed". He stood and moved before anyone could stop him.

He slid the door closed and dug around in his gym bag. The pill bottle had barely been touched. He pulled two out and swallowed them without water. His heart pounded in his ears and all he could see was red.

_It won't work_

Dean lay back on the bunk. His breathing was still erratic and he shivered.

The razor was still lying in the sink.


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing

Running from this Truth

He didn't start with anything extreme; small, shallow cuts barely more than nicks. Droplets of blood appeared on the skin only to be cleaned and covered. But only ever in places where the cuts could be covered by clothing or ring gear. He wrapped some gauze around the top of his leg, ten, fifteen, twenty nicks, he wasn't sure he lost count. Some of them ran down, and he caught the blood as it spilled in thin streaks. He gulped and finished wrapping the marks and pulled a pair of sweatpants on. Dean slumped down the wall and pulled his knees up to rest his head against them. His breathing was shallow and stilted, the pill bottle spilled on the floor beside him. The voices still spoke. They demanded more from the fallen blonde, it wasn't nearly enough. There was no retribution, there was no peace. Just chaos, emptiness and the inevitable cold he couldn't stand.

"Punk"…

In Chicago, Punk tossed and turned. Insomnia plagued him. Something was missing and he couldn't find any rest. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair and down over his eyes. Colt's suggestions burned heavily in his mind. He couldn't lie anymore. It wasn't physical, it was emotional and it was twisting in his heart and mind. He left Ambrose, but he wanted him. He had gone, and left Dean all alone. He knew though, he knew he had broken two hearts in the process.

He had felt it, soft caresses as he slept, Dean moving closer to him and holding him, thinking he was sleeping and wouldn't notice. He had heard the whispers and felt the soft kisses on his face and shoulder. He had seen the unguarded expressions on Dean's face. But he was too much of a coward…. Punk looked at his phone and unlocked the screen. The background was a picture of Dean in his normal clothes, his hair hidden under a black beanie, dressed in a leather jacket with black jeans. He forgot when it was, in catering before some show. He was laughing with Roman and Seth, and Punk had just clicked the photo from the side lines. It was bittersweet; a constant reminder that for a brief shining moment, he had Dean and he was loved by him. He had his fallen angel, until he steeled his nerve and broke his heart.

"_Hey"._

_He rolled over and blinked. Dean lay next to him, dressed only a pair of black shorts and his head propped up on his arm. _

"_Dean"? Punk turned fully to face him. "What are you doing"?_

"_Being the reason you can't sleep, obviously". The blonde shot him a lopsided grin and in spite of himself, Punk smiled at the half crazy, half amused look in his past lover's eyes. After a few moments, Dean traced his hand down Punk's cheek and studied him._

"_You're fooling no one you know"._

"_I know", Punk replied. "I miss you"._

_Dean just sighed and looked down. "No, you don't. You just miss this"._

_Punk was rolled onto his back as Dean straddled his hips and brought his lips down in a bruising kiss. Punk moaned into the kiss and gripped the back of Dean's neck. Quickly, he flipped them and started biting and sucking down Dean's pale neck and chest. Dean gasped and tightened his grip._

"_I love you", Punk whispered before he bit Dean's shoulder, and the pair rolled again. Their erections brushed against each other and Punk opened his eyes to see Dean above him again, but with a cold look. No lust, no warmth… no love._

_The blonde gripped Punk's throat tightly, leaned down and growled lowly._

"_It's just fuck sessions remember"?_

At the side of the bed, Cult of Personality blared from the phone. Punk sat up shaking. The phone continued to ring, and he ignored it.


	6. Chapter 6

I own nothing, nothing!

AN: the interview mentioned was actually from before Punk left, but I though the reaction from Dean was perfect for the plot. Also, thanks for the reviews, they really brighten up my day

Take this Life

**In Chicago**

"It's a good contract Phil", Paul Heyman flipped the folder closed and tossed it back on the coffee table. "So what's the problem"?

The older man regarded his younger friend anxiously. Punk looked awful. He had bags under his eyes and he was pale. It was obvious he hadn't been sleeping.

"I just don't know. It's… I just don't know if this is what I want. I- I honestly don't think there is anything worth going back for".

Paul sighed and rubbed his head. "A guaranteed title run, less promos, better health care. I mean, what more do you want"?

"It isn't always about the perks Paul".

Heyman clasped his hands and nodded. "It's the setup isn't it? The whole situation with Bryan, Batista's return, the numerous screw jobs, I know. Believe me, I get it. But things will get better. Hunter… he doesn't always think things through, but they are trying to change things. The ratings and fan reactions, they are looking for a way to change things".

"There's no certainty Paul. The politics, I'm just so tired of it and I'm scared. I'm scared if I go back"…

"They won't want you? Come on Punk, you saw the fan reaction to you and all I get asked day in, day out, have I seen Punk? Is Punk coming back? Is Punk alright? You've got a lot of friends there". Paul pushed gently. "And I'm sure, more than sure in fact, that no one is going to judge you. You aren't the only one who's been pushed to the edge. Randy is just as pissed off, he was promised a title run, and he's forced to play a cowardly heel, you know how much he hates that. Bryan has considered walking more than once. But you have been in the exact same situation and you said, you can't fix anything from your couch in Chicago. That inspired a lot of people, and maybe you should take your own advice".

With that, Heyman stood and adjusted his suit jacket. He patted Phil on the shoulder.

"I need to head out, but I'll see you tomorrow for lunch OK"?

"Yeah, thanks Paul".

"Anytime Phil", Paul smiled and took his leave.

Punk sat quietly for a few minutes. Eventually, he leaned over and switched on the TV and started channel flipping. After a few seconds he stopped and stared at the screen.

Seth and Dean were doing an interview. Dean looked good, a bit tired but he was being his usual sarcastic self. Punk smiled softly and settled in to watch. Both Shield members held their own well during the course of the interview until one of the interviewers got his facts wrong.

"_Aren't you guys in cahoots with CM Punk, the champion"?_

_Seth corrected him, but Dean cut right in. "Do I look like I'm friends with CM Punk? Do I look like I'd hang out with CM Punk"?_

Punk swallowed and switched the TV off. The malice in Dean's voice caught him off guard. As soon as his name was mentioned, Dean got that crazy glint in his eye, but it was more intense. It was just acting right? He was just acting, had to be. Before he left they were in a couple of matches, Dean was just building on the resentment and dislike they set up on screen. But deep down he was terrified. What if this was how Dean felt?

Only one way to find out right? Punk opened his e-mails and pulled up a schedule.

**On the road**

Randy lay back on the bed watching Seth buzz around the hotel room unpacking. It was a nice suite; the company had really gone all out this time. King-size bed, hot tub, big screen HD TV and a private balcony. Yup life was good. Too bad it was only for a couple of nights though. A smile tugged at his lips as he watched Seth unpack. He would have been happy living out of his suitcase, but he understood Seth's need to have their things ordered, even if they wouldn't necessarily be using the room much. Too much upheaval in his life had caused Seth to try and settle as much as possible, regardless of how long he would be in one place. If it made him happy, Randy went along with it.

Despite Seth's bustling, Randy could tell he was unsettled. He propped himself up and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sethie, come here", he beckoned the younger man over.

Seth smiled and settled himself across Randy's lap. He brushed a kiss across his lover's head.

"Are you OK"?

"I'm worried about Dean".

"Because of the interview earlier"? Randy raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"How can I not be? You saw how he reacted when they mentioned Punk", Seth shrugged.

"Oh. I uh, I just thought he was playing up his character. Punk will probably be back and you all aren't really on the greatest of terms on screen", Randy bit his lip. Even the wrestlers sometimes had a hard time separating fiction from reality.

"You guys didn't see him after. He didn't even stick around. He just took off, I haven't seen him since. He said he wanted to be alone".

"Well, maybe that's what he needs right now. You think he's gonna go off the wagon again"?

"Maybe. He just looks, I don't know. He's in a bad way Ran".

Randy pulled Seth closer to him and kissed the pulse point on his neck.

"I'm sorry babe, I didn't realise he and Punk were that close. I'll lighten up a bit around him. I mean, I'm still really pissed off with him, but I won't cause any problems OK"?

"I'd appreciate it, thanks", Seth pulled back and smiled at him. "You know, I don't even think Dean really knew how close he got. I've never seen him this way before".

"Not even with you"?

"Nah, that was just sex. We wouldn't work together. Not to mention I have this really great Dom, really sexy, smart, funny, and I belong to him", Seth smirked and ground down a little on Randy's lap.

"Yeah? Think I'm a little jealous then", Randy smirked back and flipped them over onto the bed. Seth let out a small squeal and Randy chuckled.

"How jealous"?

"Oh very". Randy kissed Seth deeply and harshly. Hands started moving and Seth instinctively wrapped his legs around the viper's waist. A sharp know on the door interrupted them. Randy growled and Seth swore.

"WHAT"?!

On the other side, Sheamus flinched from the two angry voices.

"Sorry guys, Rome sent me. Either of you seen Dean? He missed a meeting", Sheamus shouted through the door.

Randy and Seth sighed and looked at each other.

"Rain check"? Seth asked softly.

Randy hung his head and took a deep breath.

"OK. Shea, we haven't seen him but we'll come and help you look".

Both men stood up and rearranged their clothes.

"There is a bright side", Seth said cheekily. "At least Shea and Rome are getting cock-blocked as well".

In spite of himself, Randy laughed.

**Undisclosed Location**

Despite the constant barrage of texts and calls, Dean only sent one text to Roman:

_I'm fine, I just wanted a few minutes to myself. For all that is holy, go fuck your boyfriend and quit mothering me._

After that, he sent a quick text to Hunter to say he had a migraine and couldn't make the meeting because of that. Then he switched his phone off.

The wind swept around him and he pulled his jacket a bit closer and yanked his beanie further down on his head. Why couldn't they just leave him alone for a while? It had really come to this. In order to get away from their constant looks and questions, here he was sitting right under their noses. Well over them actually. The hotel had a nice roof top pool. Add the rain, perfect, solitude.

He pulled up the bottom of his jean leg and traced the small cuts there. They had scabbed over and absently he picked at one.

_Small shallow cuts, it isn't enough is it? Go on, a few more won't hurt, not really. _

The small razor in his pocket seemed to grow heavier with those sentiments.

_Pathetic, look at yourself, you psycho. You've pushed away everyone who cared. Soon Seth and Roman will leave you too._

It had found the way to his hand. Dean watched as a few raindrops bounced off the sleek surface.

_Couldn't hold onto daddy, couldn't be there for mommy. They never wanted you. They knew you would turn out to be worthless. No family, no friends, no lover either._

Dean began cutting away again at the healing cuts. He watched as a few drops of blood bubbled their way to the surface.

_That's what Punk thought you know. You thought you could keep him with you. He saw right through you and your pathetic need to be loved. The whole world would be better off if you died, you know that?_

Dean dropped the blade and pulled his knees up. He pressed his head into his arms and started rocking; the voices were pushing him too far. He couldn't shut them out anymore.

"Shut up, please stop. Stop it".

He kept mumbling until the words turned to sobs and until the sobs turned to gasps of pain. He had cut deeper than he meant to, and the words had cut deeper still. The rain kept falling.

He lost all sense of time. Eventually he made it back to his room. Thankful he never encountered anyone he flopped onto his bed and pulled the blanket over him. Eventually he succumbed to sleep, too exhausted to do anything else, and too dead inside to care.

_He dreamed again. He was back in that hallway. He was waiting for Punk, and when he saw him, Punk just looked straight through him. Dean called out to him, but Punk just turned and walked away. He kept walking. Dean ended up wandering around an empty arena. He called out to everyone he could think of. Phil, Roman, Seth, fuck even Randy. Nothing._

"_Nobody likes you, everybody hates you. Why don't you go top yourself"?_

_From the end of the corridor a high, thin voice was singing over and over. Dean walked on and saw a woman crouched in the corner. Filthy blonde hair hid her face and she kept singing. Dean reached out and touched her on the shoulder._

_She turned and he recoiled in disgust. The insane eyes of his mother met his, her face twisted with insanity and drug abuse. She laughed at him._

"_Seriously baby boy, finish the job", she rasped. Then she lashed out at him with a razor. Dean screamed and lurched back. She continued laughing and then started her song again._

"_Nobody likes you, everybody hates you. Why don't you go top yourself"?_

_She had aimed true though. Dean swallowed as he looked down at his wrists. The blood seeped out of them, and his heartbeat sounded loudly in his ears. _

_The song started to fade. The heartbeat continued. Thud, thud, thud, ring, ring, ring…_

Dean's eyes flew open and he raised his arm. No marks.

Ring, ring, ring.

He struggled to sit up and picked up the hotel room phone.

"Hello"? he gasped.

"Patching a call through Mr Ambrose", the receptionist sounded way too bright and perky for two am in the morning.

The call was patched and Dean could hear rustling on the other end and breathing.

"Hello", Dean knew he sounded like crap. His throat hurt and his head was killing him.

The voice on the end stayed silent. Dean started to get pissed off.

"Who the fuck is this? Hello? Hey fucker, what'd you want? Say something you piece of shit".

The line went dead. Dean growled and tossed the receiver back on the phone. Just someone playing a joke that was all.

Dean lay back and tried to even out his breathing. He lit a cigarette and took a drag. The nightmare was still flashing before his eyes and he knew sleep would not come that night.

**Chicago**

Punk stared at the phone after he disconnected the call. He couldn't do it, coward that he was. He wanted to speak to Dean, to make things right but the words wouldn't come out. Hearing his voice, it just made him feel worse. He slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. He couldn't stay away but he didn't know how to make it right. He needed Dean, he needed his boy. But he hadn't given Dean any reason to hear him out.

_unt_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I own nothing, nothing do you hear?!

AN: Sorry, I know it has been quite dark, and it still kinda has to be. But the resolution is coming I swear. On a more personal note, the chapter is quite dark in some places cause I have had a pretty crappy time of it lately at work and am feeling a bit stressed and down. So sorry for the time span between updates, that is the primary reason.

**Will you save me?**

Roman and Seth were worried, and by extension so were Randy and Sheamus. Even Hunter had asked if everything was ok. But no one knew what to say. On the one hand, Dean's in- ring work, promos and interviews were faultless, unless you counted that he was more reckless in the ring, but not to the extent he was endangering anyone. Well, not yet anyway. But, Hunter was still concerned and as a precaution, he pushed back the breakup of the Shield, knowing that the group kept Dean grounded.

The flip side of the situation didn't exactly fill anyone with confidence. Dean was more withdrawn, he would disappear for hours on end. Plus, despite the blistering heat, he wore full length trousers and shirts. Dean had always been someone who thrived on their own comfort. His actions now spoke of nothing but discomfort. Seth was convinced he was cutting but he had no proof. If he was, he was going to great pains to hide it, even going as far to change his look in the ring. His arms were more covered, and he wore the hoody more often than not. He wasn't drinking, which was a plus, but he wasn't able to control the voices in his head either. The medication had long since refused to work and he was stuck with their company. If he had been more compos mentis, he might have realised he had friends who wanted to help him. He was too tired, too shut down to notice. That was when his own demons struck out at him.

Then, there were the dreams. They started off different but they always ended the same. He was with Punk, either when they were together or not and things would be OK. Then things changed, and Punk left or belittled him, or worse and his ghosts would reappear. He would wake with a scream dying on his lips, or his chest heaving in pain. Once with tears on his face. He grew tired, and struggled through each day with less conviction.

If this had been a fairy tale, Punk would have come back and somehow made everything better. He would have appeared, and like a balm, soothed all of Dean's worries and begged forgiveness and then made sweet love to him, promising him ever after. But this wasn't a fairy tale, and sometimes the person you want to save you doesn't make that trip. They don't make the cut, and you get what you needed from somewhere else. And sometimes, that opens a whole other can of worms. In the near future, he would have a conversation. In that conversation he would ask _why didn't Punk save me?_

The answer made sense. _He wasn't the one that could save you. He was the reason you wanted to be saved_.

The person who interceded and saved Dean, wasn't who anyone would have expected. He wasn't a part of this, until he walked into the right place at the wrong time.

**In Chicago**

Paul sighed as Punk walked off after yet another argument. He had working non-stop to try and optimise the contract conditions for Punk but he was still holding out. He took a sip of the water in front of him. He turned to Colt who sat at his left in the restaurant.

"You know, I really thought I had gotten through to him", he sighed.

"You've tried, he hasn't. You can't blame yourself", Colt sympathised. "He just needs to get his head out his ass".

"It's not just the contract is it"?

Colt sighed. "He's unsure. He tried to call someone a few days ago, and he didn't exactly get the reaction he was hoping for. Dean was less than enthusiastic to hear from him".

"Dean"? Pauls eyes bulged in surprise. "I had no idea".

"No one does", Colt cut in. "I only found out by accident. They had kept it quiet. Punk had convinced himself he didn't want anything serious. He was scared".

Paul chuckled. "Our Punk in love. I should I have guessed". He turned serious. "He needs to go back. Dean isn't in a great way. Maybe that will force him to go"?

Colt shrugged. "Maybe. But he can be stubborn, and he's convinced Dean won't forgive him for leaving in the first place".

_This was great, Punk loved it here. His head rolled back on the pillow as he gripped the blonde head between his thighs. Dean's mouth and tongue moved over his hard flesh as he sucked hard on Punk's arousal. The heat from his mouth was almost too much. He risked a look down and was almost undone by the look of sheer bliss on Dean's face. His eyes were closed and his mouth moved in that sensual rhythm. Then it stopped. _

"_Dean, what are you"- Punk raised his head. Dean stared back at him blankly. Then he got up and walked away. Punk tried to get up after him._

"_Dean, Dean, wait. Please, don't leave, please", Punk cried out as his lover walked away from him. Punk willed himself to get up and chase after him. But he couldn't move. _

"_You know what's holding you back"._

_Punk looked at the end of the bed. Colt was sitting before him with an indifferent expression on his face. _

"_Help me", Punk begged. "Bring him back to me, please"._

"_Only you can do that". Colt looked away and started humming. Punk recognised the tune. Pink Floyd's Wish you were here. It was apt. _

_Punk fell back onto the bed, tears of frustration slipping from his eyes. _

"_We're just two lost souls, swimming in our fish bowls, year after year"…_

When Punk woke up, Colt was at his door. Without saying a word, he entered and handed Punk the discarded contract. For the first time in his life, Phil Brooks felt an all-encompassing fear of uncertainty. But he did what he had always done countless times before; he signed it.

**RAW – two days later**

Dean felt like a fifth wheel. He wanted to slink out of catering but Roman was watching him like a hawk, and Seth kept pestering him to eat. Even Sheamus had tried engaging him in conversation, while Randy had kept his snarky attitude at bay. He wanted to leave. Dean shivered, and stabbed at his chicken with his fork.

"Mmm, these sweet potato fries are great. Here, try some", Seth pushed and then dumped half his portion of fries on Dean's plate. The blonde just stared down at them. Seth shot Randy and Roman a helpless look.

He was tired, he was so tired. He could hear Seth clucking at him, but the words wouldn't separate. His eyes hurt and the latest cuts on his legs throbbed lightly. There were two or three more on his left arm, but his ring gear would cover those. The smell of the food made his stomach turn and he tries a few small bites, but wanted to hurl the plate against the wall. The smell was unwelcome and nauseating. He couldn't eat it, he put his fork down and pushed his plate away. Seth placed his hand on Dean's shoulder gently.

"You need to eat Dean, please".

Dean didn't hear him. He just put his head in his arms and breathed out. He just wanted sleep. He wanted rest. Hunter walked past and shot him a worried look. Roman met his gaze and gestured to the other side of the room. The two men moved and conversed quietly for a few minutes.

When he sat back down, he directed his words at Seth.

"Just you and me tonight. Tag match. He can accompany us part way down, but he needs to go to the medic and rest up".

Dean only heard, _you and me_. It was time, finally time. He wanted to laugh at the injustice of it all. Finally, they had made it clear. Just them, he wasn't needed. Yeah, he got it loud and clear. For once, the voices stayed silent. But he knew. They weren't gone. They knew he had accepted it and they stayed in the back of his head. Silence was acceptance. They always knew what was going on. They had warned him – eventually, he would be cast out into the cold. They got what they needed.

**Seth's POV**

I had my arm around his shoulders, but I don't think Dean even noticed I was there.

"Please promise me, you will get some rest OK? Dean"? Still no response. He was awake though, every now and then a small laugh would escape from his lips followed by mumbling. It was completely incoherent, when did he last sleep? We shouldn't have left him alone at night. I was sure Randy would understand. Dean might sleep better with a friend next to him. I turned to him to broach the idea, when Kofi bounded into the room shouting at the top of his lungs.

A small distraction; that was all it took.

"Heyman just handed a contract to McMahon! It's gotta be Punk's", his eyes were gleaming and his enthusiasm was barely contained.

"Slow down Kofi", Roman stood up and approached the cluster that had surrounded the high flier. "What makes you think it's Punks"?

"Makes sense, no one else who's a Heyman guy needs a renewal, and it's too early for Brock to be coming back", Kofi stared round the whole group with wide grin. "I'm telling you, he's coming back"!

Many of the faces around had looks of pure happiness and joy on them. More than a few showed relief. I turned and saw Shea grinning and Randy smiling softly. Despite what they said in the ring, they have a lot of respect for Punk. I lifted my head to look at the one reaction which really mattered, but my eyes didn't meet anyone else's. Dean was gone.

"Fuck", I swore.

**Normal POV**

Dean didn't hear Kofi's announcement. As soon as he bounded over, the US champion had slipped away quietly, leaving behind a plate full of food and his teammates. Well, not anymore. He stumbled along near enough empty hallways and finally slumped in a small alcove near the rear entrance. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the cool concrete.

_Phil was hitting his prostate. Dean moaned and linked his legs around Phil's hips, as the straight-edged star moved gently, nipping on Dean's neck and shoulder. His arms wrapped around Dean's upper body. Dean's hands were cuffed to the bed and his erection was straining against a cock ring._

"_Please sir, more", Dean moaned wantonly as Phil maintained his lazy thrusts into Dean's tight heat._

"_Want more slut"? Phil bit down on the crook between Dean's jaw and neck. The blonde whimpered and begged._

"_Please sir, please fuck me. Just fuck me hard, please. I need you, need your cock, god, please. Please make me cum sir"._

_And he did, or at least he did once. Punk had stopped moving and Dean started moving his hips against his Dom's. He groaned at the loss of movement and moved his hands against the restraints. _

"_You really are a whore aren't you"?_

_Wait. This wasn't right._

"_No this is right, this is what I saw when you were writhing beneath me. Just a whore, begging for me to finish him off. You are pathetic", Punk's once handsome face had twisted, and his hand reached up to wrap around Dean's throat. "Thinking I could love you. How could I? No one loves you Dean, no one cares about you. You're good for one thing"._

_With inhuman strength, Punk flipped Dean onto his stomach and forced himself back into Dean's tight hole. Dean moaned at the penetration and Punk started to thrust aggressively. Tears pricked at Dean's eyes but they didn't fall. _

"_You will never, ever, be anything more than this. Now, shut up and take it whore"._

Nearby, several crates were dropped from a moving truck. Dean jolted awake, heart thudding and head pounding. He quaked at the memory of the dream and fell to one side, emptying the vague contents of his stomach.

That wasn't how it happened. It wasn't.

_No, not to you anyway. So blinded by your need for him you couldn't see he was just using you. Poor little boy._

In the background, Dean could hear the roar of the crowd. The show had started. He started for the Shield's locker room, relieved to find it empty. He stripped down and stood under the show. The water scorched him and stung at the few still open cuts.

He slumped down and he unclenched his fist. The razor blade was still sharp. It was still tempting, begging for one more sacrifice.

**Dean POV**

For the first time since I started this, I'm scared. I'm terrified, and I can't stop the blood. My hands are shaking and I am exhausted. My hand slipped. That was all – Now I have a huge cut in my leg I can't stop it. So much blood. I can feel it pound in my ears and I grab a towel. I can't treat this one myself, god I'm so stupid. They'll find out, they'll find out and I will lose everything… Even now, I still have something left to lose.

**Normal POV**

In fairy tales, a white knight saves the damsel in distress. Serendipity is the key in the story. A chance meeting between two souls who help each other is the basis upon which we live our lives.

As Dean struggled to fix the wound in his flesh, another man was watching him from the door to the shower cubicles. An impromptu trip to the trainers after a hard match put him here, and now he was part of events, part of this story. He breathed slowly and approached the broken man lying on the tiles, sobbing and watching as his blood trickled down the drain. He knelt next to him and cupped his face with one hand. His heart wrenched at the sight of Dean's pain, his angst. He knew this look. He had had it himself many years before.

Christian traced his fingers along Dean's face. Trying to offer comfort to him, his other arm slid around the slim waist of the hound, as the drops from the now lukewarm shower hit them. Dean was so far gone. He didn't even know if he saw him. Christian didn't offer anything but a simple understanding. He felt his own tears building as he held the shadow of himself a few years prior.

"Oh Dean".


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I own nothing.

Also, I really wasn't happy with this chapter. Any reviews would be appreciated.

**Trust to me, and the rest will follow**

**Normal POV**

This was so unreal. It had taken some effort, but Christian had succeeded in moving Dean back to the hotel, and then called in a favour from a junior medic. If he could help it, Hunter wouldn't find out about this and it would stay quiet. He watched the younger man toss and turn in a restless sleep and wondered if the other two men in the Shield knew about this. The realist in him tended to doubt it. If they knew about the situation fair enough, but it would be safe to say, they didn't know how far it had gone.

He sat at the side of the bed and placed his hand over Dean's clammy forehead. He was burning up. The medic had wanted to report everything to Hunter. At least three cuts on his left leg had become infected somehow. It had taken some threats and a few promises to keep that secret. Christian knew Hunter's response would be to send Dean home until he recovered. He also knew the odds of a relapse if Dean was left by himself. He needed the support of friends and family; he also knew he had none in Las Vegas. A few antibiotics had been prescribed under the table, and Christian diverted any problems with a simple lie; Dean had come down with the flu and as a result he would need care. Christian was out for a couple of weeks anyway with a shoulder injury although he was still needed for interviews and promos so he would be around. Hunter had remained sceptical, but he reluctantly agreed, wondering if Roman had been exaggerating about Dean's state of mind. Hunter agreed only on the condition that Dean report to medical for a psych evaluation when he returned, but there wasn't anything unusual about that. All the wrestlers had to report for one every six months. Their gig was full-time and constant travel. There was bound to be more than one breakdown and the three members of the psych team usually had their hands full.

Christian forced a little more water down Dean's throat and then sat back. It was going to be a long night.

**Roman's POV**

Seth hovered anxiously near me biting his thumbnail.

"What does it mean"? He hissed confused. I shrugged lightly. I had no idea. The two of us were in catering crouched over my phone looking at the text from the unrecognised number.

_Hey, just to let you and Seth know Dean is staying with me for a bit. Don't worry, I know you guys are busy. I'm taking care of him. Christian._

I creased my face in confusion as well; since when were Dean and Christian so close?

"Do you thing he's moved on from Punk"? Seth asked the million dollar question. It had been going through my mind as well. Wasn't Christian married with a kid? It wasn't uncommon for backstage hook-ups, married or not.

"I hope not", I muttered. "Getting involved with Punk was one thing – that was supposed to be just sex remember? Christian's got a family man. That would not end well".

"But if it was just sex"…Seth trailed off.

"Dean may like to claim the in between role, but you and I both know, boy is closer to a sub than a dom on the scale. He's got needs Seth, and that can cloud judgement", I said softly. Seth paused for a moment and nodded.

"So what do we do"?

Barring inventing a time machine and stopping Dean from the initial hook-up with Punk, I had no idea. In that moment, I have never felt more helpless.

**Punk's POV**

Still two weeks, I can't go back for two weeks. But that's good, it gives me time to get things sorted, figure out what I'm gonna say to Dean.

I have no idea what I'm gonna say. I don't know if this is the right decision, I don't know anything. I want to call him, but my mouth goes dry and I can't speak. Colt rubs my shoulders, says it'll be OK, I'll get there. I've asked Kofi what the reaction was like but I had to ask him generally. I had to bit my lip to stop from screaming Dean's name down the phone when Kofi gave me a run down, name by name. I didn't give a fuck about the Divas (except for AJ), I couldn't really care about management (except from Paul), 3MB couldn't care less, I never realised that Ryback cared, John Cena shed a tear, how typical… all this droning, but nothing. All he said was that Roman was as stoic as ever. Nothing ever phases that guy. Part of me wants to jump on a plane or my bus right now and just go.

But I can't. This isn't how it works. I'm back on the roster yeah, but it also means back in the storylines so they got to push something together. Which ultimately means staying away for a little longer. Any breach, and the contract could be scrapped. And that is the only thing keeping me away from Dean, Vince wants it to be a surprise. For everyone, and I accept because I need something to hide behind for a little longer.

**Normal POV**

His fever breaks in the night. For two days, he's been lying ill. Finally, he's starting to come back round. Christian had been there for most of it, he had left Kieran from the medic team with Dean when he had to leave. He needed to check up on him anyway. The kid was moving around like a deer caught in headlights. Christian would have thought it was funny once over, but not anymore.

Dean shuffled and opened his eyes, finally coherent. A groan escaped his mouth as the light from the room assaulted his dimmed senses. A straw was slipped between his lips and he gratefully sipped down some cool water. Eventually he opened his eyes and met the gaze of the man holding the cup.

The older man smiles softly at him and puts the cup down.

"Hey", Christian says simply.

"Hey", Dean replies, his throat raw and scratchy from lack of use.

"I get the feeling you and I should talk".

**Dean's POV**

I'm still sick, that's the only reason I'm sharing this stuff with him. My temperature is absolutely soaring and I'm delirious. That is why this stuff is spilling forth from my mouth.

Except I'm not, I feel fine. Bit tired and sore. So why am I sharing this shit with him? I don't even know him well. But I end up telling him everything. Every single little sordid detail. I tell him why I cut myself, I tell him I feel on the edge of my tether, like I'm falling repeatedly without a safety net and every time I crash, I break just that little more. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't feel anything and I look at my cuts trying to piece it all back together again, but I can't. I tell him about the thoughts in my head, about my darkest fears and nightmares, my abandonment issues- Jesus fuck, when the hell did I become such a girl?

I can feel him staring at me. I don't look at him. I can't look at him; no one knew about me and Punk, only a select few. And I have just gone ahead and spilled everything.

Why did I spill everything? Because I think I'm tired, I think I'm done with trying to hide. I think I want to let it all out somehow. If Christian was looking to make something of this, he would have reported me by now. I remember he found me, got me out and took care of me. If he wanted to profit from this he would have done it by now. But this doesn't mean I can trust him. I guess at best, I just feel like I owe him an explanation, and I sure as hell owe myself one. I said before, didn't I? I was scared. I could end up killing myself. I've put myself through hell since my one constant left me. I needed an epiphany and now I have one; I don't want to die.

I can't get this done myself, so I will trust this guy, and if he betrays me in any way, then that proves it doesn't it? Another mistake, and I will leave this time.

**Christian's POV**

I just listened while Dean laid it all out. I thought I went through bad shit, I didn't know anything. How could one person live through all this? When he told me about Punk, I can't say I was surprised. Every breakdown needs a catalyst. Eventually he stops, and he is struggling to breath. I wrap my arms around him and his head rests against my shoulder. I rub his back, talking softly and calming him down until his breathing steadies again.

"Why are you helping me"?

The answer isn't simple, and it's a long story. One I'm not sure if I'm ready to tell, but how else can I prove you can come back from this?

"Because I know what you're going through. I was left too".

Dean listens. I tell him about everything. I tell him about Adam.

"I didn't mean to fall in love with him; it was just supposed to be casual. When he left, I felt like my whole world fell apart. We're still close, but we will never be that close again". My heart felt heavy.

"But you're married"-

"Yeah, now. But I wasn't always. I love Denise, I do. But Adam was the first person I loved unconditionally. You don't get over that. I had to learn to cope without him and it was hard. It doesn't matter, it always is. But you will get through this I promise".

I chuckled. "You know, I'm surprised you're not telling me to fuck off right now".

Dean chuckled as well. "Yeah, me too".

His tone became more sombre.

"Will I get over this"?

"I can't answer that. But I will help you. I'm here for you".

"Why? We're not friends. We never have been", Dean sounded generally confused.

"Well, to be fair, we only ever met in the ring", I shrugged. "I was in that room by accident Dean. I never realised I walked into the wrong locker room until after I found you. I don't like to come off sounding all high and mighty, but I don't believe in coincidence. I think I was supposed to find you".

"Some higher power watching us"? Dean scoffed.

"Not necessarily", I smiled. "But I don't think I can rule it out to just dumb luck on my part".

Dean braced himself up and pushed off to face me. He looked sceptical.

"What do you want"?

"To help", I said honestly. "Someone helped me out. Someone I didn't expect when that shit went down with Adam. Maybe that's what you need, someone who isn't close enough to you to help you through this".

Dean bit his lip and looked down. I could see it now. He was petrified. He'd been dealing for so long with his own issues that he never relied on anyone else for support. This was a far cry from the Dean we all knew from the ring. But I got that, we all wrapped ourselves up in our ring personas. If only to convince ourselves we were actually invincible. Sometimes we needed to let ourselves be vulnerable.

"Trust me, can you do that"?


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

I own nothing.

**Calm before the Storm**

**Normal POV**

It was another two weeks before Dean could go back to work properly. In the meantime, Hunter wrote him out with injuries, teaming the remaining Shield members together to meet demand. The entire time, Dean stayed with Christian. If Roman and Seth thought it odd they didn't say anything, but they checked in, reassuring Dean they were worried and were looking forward to him returning. Gradually, the ache in Dean's chest lessened, but he still had doubts.

The voices remained but they commanded less, and their power dwindled. At times Dean still felt the need for release, to cut again, to punish. And every time, Christian held him tightly and let him loose his demons. Explaining the black eye to Hunter was awkward to say the least. Although Dean apologised for it, it was still sore for a few days after. Thankfully all Christian had were radio interviews.

He kept Dean's blades. He wouldn't even let Dean shave himself. That led to some pretty loud arguments in the hotels and more than one complaint, but eventually he conceded. Christian probably wouldn't have followed through with his threat to tell Hunter. Probably.

Christian could help him, but he couldn't work miracles. Punk was still on his mind, and would be for a long time. He still dreamt about him and he still felt broken. But it felt better to not be dealing with it on his own.

**Christian's POV (2 weeks later)**

Dean had decided to come with me to a house show, just to hang out backstage and see a few people, not to compete. Just hang out and see friends. I could tell he was nervous. He kept biting his lip and was more jittery than usual. As we crossed the parking lot, I reached out and took his hand squeezing it. He flashed me a quick smile and squeezed back. We carried on into the building. I wished then I had noticed the Bella twins and Summer Rae behind us.

**Roman and Shea, Seth and Randy**

"Oh my gosh", Summer flopped down next to Roman and Shea excitedly. "You guys will never believe what I've just seen! I knew he wasn't sick all of a sudden! You'd think Hunter would cut other couples some slack. I don't see why they're hiding it, I think they look really cut"-

"Summer, take a breath", Randy interrupted holding up one hand. "What are you talking about"?

"Dean and Christian, they complement each other really well, don't you think"? Summer flipped her hair over her shoulder hitting Roman in the face.

Seth laughed. "What are you talking about? Dean and Christian aren't involved"!

"Holding hands in the parking lot", Summer sang. "They looked pretty cosy to me and le Bellas"!

With that Summer jumped up and darted off. They vaguely heard her gossiping away to Justin Gabriel and Heath Slater.

"You guys will never believe what I just saw"!

**Roman's POV**

I left the guys pretty quick after that. I needed to find Dean and fast before the rumours started. I turned a corner pretty quick and smacked into a smaller body.

I looked down to see Brie Bella sprawled across the floor shaking her head.

"Oh my god, Brie I am so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you OK"? I reached down and picked her up.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. Where you off to in such a hurry"? She asked as she dusted off her clothes.

"I, um, I'm looking for Dean. I need to talk to him".

"Oh, is this about him and Christian"? Brie smiled brightly. "I had no idea. They make a cute couple".

I put my hands on my hips and stared at the ground. "Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot lately".

Brie winced. "Yeah, Summer can be a bit of a gossip. At least Nikki only told John".

Awh fuck, Cena knows? He's the biggest gossip of them all! I forced a smile.

"Well I'd better get going. Sorry again".

I ran off as quickly as I could. I really needed to find Dean now.

**Normal POV**

Christian smiled at Dean as he took another bite of his burger. It was good to see him eating regularly.

"I'm really proud of you, you know that"?

Dean smirked. "Thanks dad".

Christian laughed and leaned across to plant a light kiss on Dean's temple. Across the room, Roman froze at the door. Was it possible the rumours had an element of truth? He did want to confront them, but Dean was actually eating, and smiling. He left the room and went to go find Seth.

"Are you excited for RAW on Monday"? Christian asked.

"You know, I actually am", Dean admitted. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was ready to get back to it.

Of course, life has an awful habit of slapping you in the face when you think things are going well.

**Punk's POV**

I was leaving tomorrow for RAW in California. It was my first night back. I was anxiously tossing clothes in a suitcase while Colt watched from the sofa.

"Uh, Punk, you're only away for two nights. I really don't think you need six pairs of socks", Colt commented.

I looked down at my case. Yeah, I probably didn't need to pack the TV remote either.

"I can't remember the last time I was this nervous". I chewed on my lip ring and started digging through my case.

"How can I help"? Colt asked. "Pizza, Pepsi, Breaking Bad marathon"?

I paused with my packing. I had been thinking how to bring this up.

"I'd feel a lot better if you came with me", I admitted.

Colt furrowed his brow. "Are you sure"?

"Yeah", I tossed my cubs cap back on the pile and flopped down next to him. "I don't know what's going to happen when I get there, and I could really use some support".

"Paul will be there though", Colt turned round to face me.

"Yeah but he has Brock appearing this week; and apparently he's representing Cesaro now as well". I didn't know how much time Paul would have for me. Not to mention, I didn't want to cause him any problems. A.J. told me he and Hunter had butted heads on more than one occasion. After everything Paul had done for me I didn't want him to suffer.

"What the hell, I'm in", Colt smiled at me. "Besides, it's been a while since I saw A.J., maybe we can finally get to the beach this time. You should bring Dean".

"Yeah, if he ever talks to me again", I said mournfully. I was still convinced I had fucked up any and all chance.

"He will", Colt said firmly. "Now come on, buck up and finish packing. I'll call the airline and book another ticket".


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

I own nothing.

**Am I too late?**

**Normal POV**

Monday Night RAW was less than three hours away. From the moment he had arrived, Punk had to fight his way through the hordes of co-workers, superstars and divas desperate to catch up. Then he had been locked up with Vince and Stephanie going over his comeback and new promos and storylines. They had decided to settle the still unresolved tension with Triple H by establishing them in a new feud. Bryan was currently facing off against a returned Batista for a number one contenders spot whilst Orton was out with injuries. The Shield was currently in the middle of a face turn and were set to go against the Wyatts at the next pay per view. Needless to say, everyone had a lot of work on right now. Christian and Shea were to start feuding and tensions were running high backstage.

Punk listened to Vince drone on and on, clarifying the last few details of the contract. He bounced his knee distractedly. Colt had vanished as soon as they arrived to go and find A.J. in catering, or possibly get A.J. and find a broom closet, he wasn't sure. The two had had an on/off thing for a while, more often on than off just to blow up some steam.

Speaking of, he wished Vince would just get to the point so he could go find Dean. He hadn't seen him yet, but he was here. A.J. had gotten in on the plan and was keeping an eye out with Colt.

A.J. text: Hey Punk, where are you? He'll be finished eating soon, get your ass here now!

Punk text: The universe is conspiring against me…

Colt text: Stop being such a drama punk :p

Punk text: Bite me guys :p

"OK, I think that's us. It's good to have you back son", Vince smiled and reached out his hand to Punk, who took it with a thin lipped smile.

"Yeah, good to be back".

**Colt POV**

I couldn't help but sit and bask in the complete and total awesomeness of this plan. A.J. and I sat sharing a plate of curly fries as we kept an eye on Punk's man. Everything was going great, Dean was alone, Punk would be here soon and we would just kick back and watch the glorious reunion. Let's face it; this is a fool-proof plan. Nothing can possibly- wait what?

"Christian"? A.J. cocked her head in surprise. "What's he doing"?

NO! Christian would ruin everything! The entirety of this plan depended on Dean and Punk having a full, complete heart to heart without incident or interruption.

I felt my heart drop down into my shoes. Christian had just kissed Dean on the cheek, and was snuggled with him…really affectionately.

"Oh fuck".

My thoughts exactly A.J., my thoughts exactly. This wasn't part of the plan.

"Double fuck".

And Punk had just seen everything…

**Dean's POV**

I just stabbed my mashed potatoes with my fork and pushed them around my plate. Punk was back, Punk was here. Why? Why now? I was just starting to things back on track, then he walks in. I saw him arrive. I was hidden; just wanted to make sure it was actually true. Then I went and hid out in Christian's dressing room for a while. Rome and Seth have texted asking if I'm OK. I'm not OK. I am the complete and total fucking opposite.

I want my razor.

"Hey", Christian slides in next to me. "I'm sorry, I tried to get away sooner. How are you holding up"?

I look up at him shakily. "Really fucking bad, I need it Christian. Please".

"No", Christian moved closer me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the side of my face and leaned his against mine. "Come on, you can do it. Breath in and out, get grounded. I'm right here".

I just buried my face in the crook between his neck and shoulder. I stayed like that for a long time.

"I've got you little brother".

**Punk's POV**

Well, fuck.

**Normal Pov**

Punk didn't cry. That was one of the things he had learned from a young age. When he got into wrestling, he learned how to live completely in the moment everything else falls away. When he became an active Dom, he learned all of that again on a different level. But he didn't let himself get vulnerable, even when he knew other people were.

Is this payback?

He sat on a construction crate near the back door tracing the edges of a black box. He had been staring at the skip across from him for a while, but he didn't want to throw it away.

He opened the box and looked at the plain collar within it. It was black with a thin green stripe around it, and an X at the front. He had bought it before he came back, just in case.

_Guess I won't be needing it now._

**Christian POV**

I had managed to calm Dean down. We spent some time watching the show backstage in the Shield's locker room. Now Dean and Seth had a tag team match with Roman at ringside. Dean was on his way up to the meeting point, I was walking with him as far the arena layout would allow without running into any fans.

"Maybe you should talk to him, just to clear the air"?

"I don't know if I can". He scoffed. "Jesus, when did I get so pathetic"?

"Dean, you're not pathetic".

"Hmm. I wouldn't know what to say".

**Normal POV**

RAW had only been over for twenty minutes, and Vince McMahon could not have been happier. Merchandise sales were up, remaining tickets had been sold and the new storylines had gone over really well.

Backstage, the momentum was running high. Seth had already been abducted by Orton for the night and Roman and Shea disappeared sometime after the main event. Christian had vanished briefly too for a skype date with his wife and daughter. He had been reluctant to leave Dean, but he had insisted, saying he was going to try and find Punk.

After running into the Usos, Dean was reminded about the last time he had tried to find Punk. It was funny how the situation was so similar. It made him nervous and he almost wanted to give up on the idea.

"_You have to face up to it, otherwise it will haunt you"._

_Nah, he'll just tell you to get fucked you dumb slut!_

Dean shook his head frantically. He knew Christian was right, that was the main thing. He needed closure. He turned the corner and froze; looks like he had it.

**Punk's POV**

Colt eventually found me. I'd managed to avoid most people while the show was on, performed at my best, standing ovation. Then I ran away to the back and hid like a whipped dog. Why? Because the first thing I saw when I came backstage was Dean and Christian walking around with their heads together, whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. Then I ran into two of the nameless divas from that stupid show, who kept belting on about how "the Canadian sweetheart has tamed the hound"! Urgh! Someone please shoot me.

I leaned my forehead against the wall and sighed in frustration. I couldn't even lash out, I just felt broken…

Colt slipped his arms and around me and I turned to face him.

"I'm such an idiot Colt, I'm such a fool", I whispered closing my eyes. "I lost him. Clearly, I never had him. I was just kidding myself".

"No, no you weren't". Colt pressed a soft kiss to my head and held me closer. I knew this was wrong, this wasn't what I wanted. But I needed it, I needed to know there was light at the end of the tunnel. Even if it didn't last for long

**Colt POV**

I know I'm not what he wants; I'm not who he wants. But I can give him something to ease the pain. I just want to help; so I kiss him, and I pour everything into it.

It's not love, but it's the only thing I can offer him to ease the pain.

**Normal POV**

Dean stepped away from the two entwined men, walking back down the hall as quietly as he could, before he broke into a run. Tears came, and he angrily dashed them away with the back of his hand. He didn't need closure, Punk clearly didn't care. Neither did he; this was over. It ends now.

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and followed this story so far; hope it is living up to people's expectations.**

**Reviews are cookies!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**I own nothing! Nothing to do with the WWE and certainly not the song.**

**Running up that Hill**

**Punk's POV**

Yeah, OK, this may have been a mistake. This definitely was a mistake. Coming back, signing the contract, listening to my friends with their ideas about love and destiny, falling in love with Dean fucking Ambrose.

And most recently, sleeping with Colt again. I was supposed to stop doing this. Colt didn't seem particularly bothered by this though. He was lounging on the couch talking to A.J. on the phone while they arranged a trip to the zoo. They had already tried to get me to go along. I refused. I would rather just stay here and be bitter.

Fucking Christian. Why him?

**Colt's POV**

"Can't believe I missed it again"!

"Um, A.J., sweetie, you do realise Punk is into guys right? As much as I'd love for you to join in, I don't think he's gonna go for it. It'd be like sleeping with his little sister", I consoled. A.J. and I weren't exclusive, but we fooled around every now and again. She knew everything that happened with Punk and I.

"Yeah, but in a total non-incestuous way, it would be totally hot", she replied flightily.

"OK sweetie pie, OK", I couldn't help but laugh. "So we on for the zoo"?

"Can I get ice cream and a balloon"?

"Of course".

"Then I'm in! What about Punky"?

I looked back through at the lump under the blankets.

"Um, let's go with not".

**Dean **

His phone hadn't stopped ringing. Roman, Christian, back to Roman, Sethie, and the Bellas for some reason. Dean just jammed it back in his jacket pocket and continued stalking through the park near the hotel. The wind was whipping around the trees and the few strands of blonde hair that snuck out from under his hat tossed against his skin. He had ducked out the hotel earlier that morning, intent on just walking. He had gotten back to the hotel the night before, lied to Christian, said he had a headache and stayed locked away from everyone else.

He was angry. He was furious, he wanted to lash out and hurt someone. He wanted to lash inwards and hurt himself most of all. Hurt himself for feeling that he needed to suffer his emotions.

_Let me steal this moment from you now._

Once he would have put any hate into Moxley. Mox didn't feel it; he lived through it and like a dragon, burned everything around himself until he emerged from the ashes, undefeated and stronger than the weaklings who tried him.

Who the hell was he now? He wanted the old ways back. Before he was taken in hand; before he submitted. Before he submitted to an unworthy master.

The park was deserted. The winds were rising and picking up speed. He stopped in a clearing and screamed in frustration. He screamed until his voice became hoarse and sharp pains tore at his throat. Everything fell at that moment. The voices had stopped. But now Dean felt lonely. There wasn't anything there.

The children's park was empty. The swings swayed slowly in the wind. Dean slumped onto one and pushed off a little as he watched the wind batter the pine trees across from him. He wished he could turn the clock back. Stay in the Indies, never sign with WWE, never meet CM Punk. He could stay Jon Moxley, fighting, drinking and fucking with no thoughts, no feelings. No regrets. If only he could turn the clock back.

_And if I only could,_

_Make a deal with God,_

_And get him to swap our places,_

_Be running up that road,_

_Be running up that hill,_

_With no problems_

He couldn't turn the clock back, but he could sure as hell make it stop. Punk would be happy, and he would be, gone…

**Normal Pov**

In the lobby of the hotel, six men met with one clear purpose; find Dean Ambrose before he does anything fucking stupid. Roman gave everyone their final instructions; move out sweeping every location in a three mile radius. Hopefully he hadn't gone too far. He definitely was not in the hotel or at the arena where Smackdown was taping that night. Thankfully, none of the six men were on the card. The Shield had a promo which had been filmed the day before, Randy had no match, neither did Christian or Sheamus. The only reason John Cena was still around had been for a Make a Wish visit that morning at a local hospice. Randy had filled him in, and he had come running. Everyone else was busy preparing for the show.

"OK, everyone clear? Let's go". Roman took charge and the six men left. Sheamus and John headed left, Seth and Randy headed right. Roman and Christian would take the area directly ahead. Thankfully the hotel was on the outskirts, so there were only a certain number of places he could have headed off to on foot. At least, they hoped he was on foot.

"This is all my fault", Christian groaned. "I shouldn't have left him alone".

"Don't blame yourself, you've done more than you know. If he ran off it wasn't anything to do with you", Roman soothed and then paused. "We'll find him".

"Find who"?

Both men turned to be confronted by Punk and Colt, who were heading out to the arena. Silently, Roman cursed his rotten luck. He exchanged a quick look with Christian. The blonde was staring daggers at Punk, whose hand was loosely held by Colt. That had to be why Dean had disappeared. What else would shake him so badly?

_God, if he's hurt, I will never forgive myself._

"We're looking for Dean, can't find him", he replied flippantly.

"Haven't seen him man", Colt piped up. "But I'll tell him if I see him".

"Thanks Colt, appreciate it", Christian mumbled.

"What's up Christian"? Punk sneered. "Lovers tiff"?

"Shut it Punk", Roman muttered darkly. Christian shot venom at the tattooed man.

"What's it to you"?

Punk shrugged. "Just think he could do better is all".

"Better than a whoring Chicago-based coward right"? Christian demanded.

"Better than a cheating scumbag whose wife just gave birth", Punk shot back shoving Christian. Christian pushed him back until Roman got in the middle. "Treating him like a bit on the side, you asshole"!

"Look who's talking you punk-assed bitch"!

"Guys cool it"!

Colt wrapped an arm around Punk's shoulders and pulled him off.

"Punk, stop. This isn't helping. Come on, let's get to the arena".

The dark haired man pulled Punk away to the door. Punk turned back at the last minute.

"At RAW, I'm coming for you", he promised.

Roman turned to Christian with a pained look on his face. Christian sighed and stared down at his shoes.

"I know, I know. Let's just find him".

**Punk's POV**

I slammed the door to the rental and gripped the wheel till my knuckles turned white. Colt looked over at me.

"Do you want me to drive"?

I thought for a moment.

"Yeah".

**Normal POV**

In the end, they caught a break. Randy and Seth bypassed the park entrance until they heard a young mother talking about the deeply unstable man on the swing set to another parent. They split a look and ran full throttle through the park. Seth gripped Randy's hand tightly as he ran ahead, the older man keeping up with him, but barely. They found Dean as soon as the heavens opened. Randy shrugged off his leather jacket and pulled his hoody up. He called Roman with the news. Seth grabbed the jacket and slung it around Dean. His skin was like ice and his face was pale. Seth pulled Dean close and starting murmuring reassurances in his ear.

Together, they picked Dean up and got him moving. He was unsteady, numb with the cold air and harsh rainfall.

"What were you doing here"? Seth shouted over the weather.

"Thinking, waiting", Dean whispered.

"For what"? Randy asked.

"Anything".

Seth rubbed his back, pressing him on.

"Come on, dry clothes, some soup, you'll feel better".

They got him back to Roman and Shea's suite. Dean's eyes remained downcast and he didn't say anything. Seth and Randy handed him over to Christian for care while Sheamus handed out some towels and tea to get them warmed up.

Christian stripped them both down and supported Dean in a hot shower until he finally stopped shivering. He brushed Dean's blonde stands out his eyes and cupped his face.

"Punk"?

The look on Dean's face told him everything he needed to know.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**For the purposes of this chapter, real names are used in specific scenarios.**

**I own nothing! **

**Pull and Push**

**Normal**

Christian sat with Shea and Randy watching the TV, while Dean, Seth and Roman spoke amongst themselves in the bedroom. After he had calmed down, Dean took his teammates aside and came clean about everything. The other three men kept glancing towards the partially closed door, each of them worried about their respective boy.

"Why didn't you tell us? You could have come to us", Seth asked Dean who sat staring at the floor.

"I'm sorry", he mumbled. "I always screw things up".

"No you don't", Roman assured him, as he checked over the healing cuts on Dean's left arm. "But you do need to learn to ask for help. It isn't true you know, what your head says, what your mom says. We will not leave you".

Seth leaned his head against Dean's. "We're family. You have a family and you are wanted, screw Punk and screw the voices".

Dean smiled and leaned into them.

**Dean's POV**

Part of me was dead set against this. The other part of me was silent. My leg bounced with nerves and I snapped the gum in my mouth a few times. Christian had a strict no smoking rule for the car. It had been two days since my disappearance and talk with the boys. Christian thought this was therapeutic, the WWE staff agreed. I was in a state of denial.

"It'll be okay Dean", Christian placed a hand on my knee and squeezed.

"What if she's having a bad day"?

"I called ahead and they said she was doing much better".

I didn't have the heart to tell Christian that was what they told me the day before the Rumble as well. That was the last time I visited, and in retrospect, it probably didn't help everything that happened after. What was it that Regal said to me one time? You take in too much and eventually something has got to give. She probably wouldn't remember last time anyway. She was too far gone.

Christian pulled up to the institution and walked me inside. We signed in and were showed through to the patient area.

"Mr Good, I'm glad you came. Marion is feeling much better today", the doctor approached and shook my hand. It was strange hearing my birth name, I've gone by my wrestling aliases for so long.

"Uh, yeah. Where is she"? I pushed my hands in my jean pockets and looked around the brightly lit common room.

"She's outside".

**Normal POV**

For something to break, there has to be a catalyst and a cause. They weren't necessarily the same thing. When Dean broke, the catalyst was Punk. The cause was a woman named Marion, Marion Good to be exact. It was strange just how much was taken from real life for wrestling promos.

Dean's mother was a long suffering ex-drug user. She had used so much over too long a period and as a result, she was mentally unstable and ill. Dean put his body through hell on a weekly basis to make sure she was comfortable her at the institution. She would probably never leave it. She could barely recognise him half the time and when she did, he was subjected to insults and threats from her. More than once, there had been an attack.

No one knew about her. Except Christian. He followed Dean outside to the garden. A small, thin woman with straggly blonde hair was sitting over on a bench under the tree. She was staring across the yard with light brown eyes that mirrored his own.

He waited until he was only a few feet away.

"Mom"?

Marion blinked and then turned to look at him. Her face remained dull and incomprehensible until he sat next to her.

"Jon. Oh sweetheart, you came to visit me. Oh my baby boy", Marion cooed softly as she lifted a hand and caressed his face.

Christian smiled softly and turned away to give them some privacy.

"Is he taking care of you baby? Is Moxley taking care of you"?

Dean took his mother's hand and held it softly. "No mom, Moxley is dead, for a few years now. He got hit by a car remember"?

"Oh of course. I remember, you cried so much. You've been crying again though baby; it's not Mox. Who hurt you"? She leaned on his shoulder looking up at him. "I can tell. A mother always knows".

He smiled bitterly. "No one hurt me mom. I'm okay".

"You're not, you're not eating enough. I'll make you your favourite, then we'll walk Mox baby boy. We'll be okay", she wrapped her arms around him and started rocking him. "I'll always love you, even when I hate you".

Dean froze, but Marion just started humming and rocking him again. He settled back and let her. She could keep her illusions. She still saw him as a little boy she had to spend what little money she had feeding him instead of her habit. She had illusions of being the perfect single mom, he remembered different. He remembered sneaking most of his food out to the street. He remembered starving himself just so he could feed Moxley properly. He loved that damn dog until a drunk driver ripped him away.

"I love you too mom. I'll see you soon".

He knew he wouldn't though. There did come a point when the cause had to be removed; for his own sanity if nothing else.

**Sunday Night**

Soft rock music melted out of the old jukebox in the corner. Roman smiled at the barmaid as he picked up six bottles of beer and took them to the back where the pool table was. Seth and Dean were double teaming Randy, and Seth was dancing around in front of him trying to distract from an easy shot in the top corner. Dean sat to the side trading jokes with Sheamus who was sipping on a pint of Guinness. He took one of the bottles Roman offered and tapped it against Shea's beer glass.

"Bottoms up fella"!

RAW had come to Boston, and it was the monthly night out before the first show. The bar was just down from the hotel and was mainly quiet. It was a casual place, just made for a few drinks and games. A football game was on a flat screen in the corner, several wrestlers including the Usos and Titus were gathered around cheering on the teams.

For the most part, the wrestlers were on light or soft drinks, but everyone was having a good time. Christian smiled as he saw Dean laughing. Since they had visited his mom, he had actually been better, like a weight had been taken off his mind.

"Are you going to tell Dean about what Punk said"? Roman moved up beside him silently.

"No, should I"? Christian replied. "I can handle Punk".

"He has the wrong idea", Roman commented.

"Yeah, he's jealous. He thinks I've replaced him in Dean's affections".

"Well, you kind of have".

"Where is he"?

Dean had gone, again.

**Punk's POV**

Oh god, no. What the hell did I do?

"Punk! What the fuck did you do"?! Roman grabbed me at the front and shook me. Christian darted past us down the stone steps and knelt next to him.

"Seth, call an ambulance, he's not conscious"!

I heard a few people shuffle around behind us. I could hear Colt speaking urgently.

My eyes never left Dean. His body was splayed out on the ground, still and broken. I felt so far from him; he fell away from me. Twelve steps onto solid concrete. No, why did I-

"What did you do"?! Randy snapped, and hit me across the face. I turned blindly to him.

"It was an accident"…


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**For the purposes of this chapter, real names are used in specific scenarios.**

**I own nothing! **

**I Can't Let You Go**

**Normal POV**

Christian and Roman were sitting in the hard backed chairs in the hospital waiting room. Roman shifted with a grunt, these chairs were not made for a man of his size. Sheamus and Randy were at the vending machines getting some coffees while Seth was pacing a little away from them. Colt and Punk were sitting across from them. Punk had his head in his hands and Colt was rubbing his back consolingly.

"You believe him"? Christian whispered.

"Hunter is checking the CCTV. I don't know if that's the best way to tell. The best way is for Dean to wake up and tell us", Roman whispered back.

"How much longer do you think the doctors will be"?

"Hard to say. He took a nasty knock to the head".

"They should be finished by now", Seth growled. "What is taking so long"?

"Relax baby, we'll know soon", Randy kissed his temple as he passed him a steaming hot coffee.

"Actually, I'd like to know what the hell actually happened. Punk"? Sheamus crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at the voice of the voiceless, who at this point, was voiceless.

**Flashback**

_Dean sparked up a smoke and inhaled deeply. The smoking area was deserted and set up on a platform at the back of the bar. A flight of steps ran down to the street from the back door. He flopped down on the bench and took a drink from the beer bottle at his side._

"_Well I see you've reverted to form", a dry voice came from the doorway, hints of disappointment and command._

_Dean's entire body froze. _

"_Look at me"._

_His eyes flickered up to the green eyes staring at him with disgust and judgement. Punk's hair was swept back under his Cub's cap and his clothes casual and so very Punk. He looked good._

"_It's none of your business", Dean replied hastily stubbing the cigarette out and breaking eye contact. _

_Punk pushed off the door and approached the blonde, never breaking eye contact._

"_I didn't give you permission to talk back to me boy", he chastised. _

"_Don't need your permission", Dean rebelled, taking another drink from his beer. "Not your sub, never have been"._

"_You did a good job of pretending", Punk reached out and traced Dean's jaw and bottom lip. He had missed the feel of his skin. He felt light stubble and made a mental note to direct him to shave again. His boy trembled under his touch and Punk felt a rush of arousal pulse through him. Even now he was resisting, but he was crumbling. It never did take much. _

_Dean collected himself and pushed Punk's hand aside. "Don't touch me"._

"_Why? You want Christian, is that it"? Punk gripped the back of Dean's hair and forced him to look him in the eyes. "You wanted me for long enough, what changed"? _

"_You left me, not the other way around. I don't owe you a goddamn thing", Dean hissed. "Now let go of me". _

_Punk's eyes softened and he loosened his grip. Dean wasn't kidding. _

"_I didn't mean to leave you", he said softly cupping Dean's face as he knelt down before him. "I was angry, I wasn't thinking. I didn't know what I lost before it was too late". _

_Dean dropped his eyes away from Punk's face._

"_Don't say I'm too late now. He's no good for you", Punk instructed. _

_Dean pushed him away angrily. "You don't get a fucking say! There is no collar around this neck"!_

_Punk got to his feet angrily and gripped Dean's neck. "There could be", he hissed, and forced his mouth to Dean's. _

_The kiss was pure dominance; even during their most furious fucking, Punk had never been like this. Dean groaned as Punk nipped his lips and they parted easily. Punk's tongue started stroking his and Dean moaned into the kiss. Punk gripped his hips roughly and pressed him up against the wall. The music and noise from inside was drowned out and the world fell away. For the first time in weeks, Punk felt whole again. His tongue continued to make love to Dean's, and he pressed his body against Dean's aching one, fighting himself for control. _

_He broke the kiss breathing heavily, and leaned his forehead against Dean's. both their eyes were closed, and his heart was pounding in his ears. He could taste the beer and smoke on Dean's breath; it was intoxicating._

"_I want you", he growled, nipping Dean's neck. Dean shook his head, struggling to think clearly._

"_What about Colt"?_

_Punk froze._

"_What"?_

_Dean pushed Punk away from him, his eyes hard and vacant as an empty beer bottle._

"_What about Colt"? _

_Punk remained silent. Dean pushed himself up from the wall and stared him down._

"_I won't be your whore, not anymore". He brushed past and walked away. He had enough of hurting._

_Punk reached out for him and grabbed his jacket._

"_Dean, don't walk away from me damn it"!_

"_Get your fucking hands off me"!_

_They struggled until Dean broke free, and misjudged his steps._

"_Dean"!_

_Punk reached out to grab him, but the cuff of his jacket slipped through his fingers. _

**Present**

"He hit his head on the railings, and he fell. That's when you all showed up", Punk finished, eyes still on the floor, and Colt's arm around his shoulders. No one else said anything.

Punk closed his eyes and swallowed hard. The image of Dean lying broken at the bottom of the stairs refused to leave him. The blood had seeped out from a nasty cut on his forehead and he hadn't moved.

Roman regarded him silently. It made sense; but it didn't prove anything.

"Why, whenever there is an issue lately, it is always you lot"?

Everyone turned to see Hunter stalking through the waiting room with Paul Heyman at his side.

"Hunt"- Randy started.

"Shut up. Every single time; now I know how Vince felt. I am getting too old for this shit".

Paul folded his arms and stared down at Punk. "What happened Phil"?

Word for word, Punk repeated back everything he had told the group. When he finished Hunter nodded.

"CCTV corroborates, but I will need to talk to Dean when he wakes up", he stated, smoothing his tie. "Is there not enough drama inside the ring? We've got to add to it outside the ring as well"?

A small cough distracted from the tension. The doctor smiled nervously at them.

"Mr Good is awake. I have a Mr Lopez and a Mr Anoa'i listed as next of kin"?

Roman and Seth immediately stepped to one side with the doctor. Hunter took a seat next to Randy and Paul sat next to Punk.

"Well", Hunter started. "How is my niece"?

**Dean's POV**

My head ached, and I had three cracked ribs and a sprained wrist. Nothing hurt more than the ache in my chest. Why now? I just wanted this to stop. I let the darkness claim me again.

**Please Review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**I own nothing! **

**Shifting Dynamics**

"You're sure"?

"Absolutely. It was an accident Hunter, plain and simple", Dean propped himself up and hissed in pain.

"Dean, if you're trying to protect"-

"I'm not. It was an accident. This doesn't need to go any further and there is nothing behind it, I swear", Dean reiterated staring the COO in the eye. Hunter held his gaze for a few moments until he relented.

"Alright. We'll write you out for a couple of weeks with injuries, just have you accompanying the others and maybe doing some commentary. We'll set up for a championship defence when you come back to tie it all in, that sound fine"?

"Sounds good boss".

"Good. Rest up and take it easy, I'll see you Monday", Hunter clapped Dean lightly on the injured arm and took his leave. Roman and Seth watched him leave before crowding the bed.

"Are you sure you're alright"?

"Any pain? I can get you some ice"?

"Guys I'm fine, I just feel more embarrassed than anything else", Dean lamented as he eased back on the pillows. "Taken down by a flight of stairs"… The room had started spinning again. This pain medication was great.

"And the punk who pushed you down them", Roman muttered.

"For the last time, he didn't push me on purpose", Dean looked down and fidgeted with the hospital blanket. "Is he still here"?

"Yeah", Seth replied. "Do you want us to get him"?

"No".

**Punk's POV**

"I'm not abandoning you".

"Really? Because this is essentially the definition of abandonment, Colt", I replied. I still felt uneasy with Sheamus and Randy frequently casting looks in my direction.

"You need to fix things with Dean; I can't be around for that. A.J. is going to pick me up, and I'll be close by, but I need to stay away so Dean doesn't run", Colt tried to explain. "He'll feel threatened by me and I don't want you to suffer. You're my best friend Punk, but I will need to support you from a distance".

He hugged me and left. Deep down, I knew he was right. But I still wished he was staying here.

Christian brushed past me talking frantically into his phone.

"Watch it", I muttered.

"Looks like this match on Monday you want will have to wait", he spat back, covering the mouthpiece.

"Jerk".

**Normal POV**

Roman and Seth came back into the waiting room with Hunter, who was on the phone as well. Sheamus came up and cupped Roman's face.

"You look tired love".

"I feel tired. What time is it"?

"It's a little past four thirty", Randy yawned and pulled Seth in closer. "How is he"?

"He's fine. Bit banged up, so they are keeping him for observation, but they should be letting him go in a day or two", Seth mumbled. He leaned against Randy's shoulder and yawned as well. "I'm about ready for some sleep. We'll come back in the morning".

"Uh, did you guys forget"? Hunter fixed them all with a pointed look.

Oh yeah, the show and the day of promotional activity which started in four hours… Fuck.

"Hunter, someone has to stay with Dean", Seth started.

"Relax, I have it covered. But I need all of you to go home, rest and then shake a leg. I've had to pull the third part of the show. Randy, you up for a segment"?

"Sure", Randy shrugged. He had been medically cleared for a week with nothing to do since Bryan had taken over as champion.

"Good, you take on Roman then".

Randy groaned.

"Hunter! I've got to go, Denise she needs me… Chloe is in hospital", Christian gasped out, tears streaming from his eyes. "She's got a fever and the doctors are worried it could be meningitis".

"Oh god. Of course go, go", Hunter pushed Christian towards the door flustered. "Keep me informed"!

The blonde Canadian nodded and ran for the door. Sheamus kissed Roman on the cheek and raced after him to drive him to the airport.

"Come on", Hunter started to usher them all out. "I suggest we all go get some rest".

He ushered the remaining Shield members out and they followed Paul to the car. Hunter placed his hand on Punk's chest and firmly pressed down.

"Not you. Stay and fix this".

He nodded at Punk and left him.

**Back with Dean**

Dean blinked wearily as his phone beeped near the bed. He picked it up and read the text from Christian, wincing at the pain in his ribs. His eyes widened as he read the explanation for Christian's unexplained absence.

_I understand man, keep me in the loop. Let me know if you need anything D._

_Thanks Dean, take care. I'll see you when I get back, if you need me call Ok? C._

_I will. Love you bro D._

_You too C._

Dean settled back down and succumbed to sleep again. Although it didn't come easy. Chloe was just a little baby. The world really sucked at times.

_Please let her be OK, _Dean thought. He had sat in on a couple of skype conversations with Christian. His wife was a gem and the little girl was a ray of sunshine. Dean kicked off the blanket and stared down at his scars. He could get better. He owed Christian that. Life could be a bitch, but he could fight back. So would the munchkin; after her dad was a great motivator.

He kept staring down at them before he succumbed to sleep again.

**Punk's POV**

I don't wake him. I just sit there and watch him sleep. He's beautiful. His ribs are wrapped, and a loose pair of shorts are hanging off his hips. He's lost weight. His skin is just as toned as I remember, and his curls fall onto his face giving him a look of boyish innocence. The blanket is tangled round his legs and he's warm to touch.

He always was a deep sleeper. I keep rehearsing what I'm gonna say when he wakes up. I don't know how to say I'm sorry, I don't know how to beg for forgiveness and another chance. But I can't just turn around and demand things from him. He was with Christian right? And he didn't run off and leave him. I did. I shouldn't be here. But I don't want to leave him alone.

I know this could be my last chance; when he wakes up, he could tell me to fuck off and get security to drop me out on my ass. And he should. I lean over and kiss is lips gently. I stroke his hair back and press a soft kiss to the cut on his head.

"I love you", I whisper, vulnerable. I hope he stays asleep. I don't want to look at his eyes when they hate me. I really fucked this up.

I untangled the blanket from his legs, ready to spread it back to normal when I froze. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and closed my eyes. I will never forget that though, ever. The thin red scars decorating his legs. Oh my beautiful boy…

"Dean, what did you do"?


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**I own nothing! Thank you for all the kind comments and support.**

**Run from me and I will find you**

**Dean's Dream POV**

It had been one hell of a storm. The rain continued to thrash down. Dean huddled under the slide, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. He was soaked through and shaking, his face was red and sore from where his mother had slapped him in a drugged up rage. He had run for the park and hid away. A few people had run past on the way home, but no one noticed the nine year old child desperately trying to hide away from the rest of the world.

He didn't mean to knock over the half-drunk bottle of bourbon. He just wanted something to eat. Suddenly the hastily made ham and cheese sandwich in his pocket didn't hold the appeal it had earlier.

A cold nose nuzzled into the side of his head, and Dean looked up to see soft brown eyes looking at him. A pitiful whine escaped from the large dog and he started licking the tear-stained face of the young boy. Dean threw his arms around Moxley's neck and buried his face into the wet, matted fur. Mox smelled awful; but Dean didn't care. The old dog had taken better care of him than the perfumed social worker who popped by every few months, took a quick look and left. Dean tore the soggy sandwich in half and fed the bigger piece to Moxley.

"Love you Mox", he murmured.

**Normal POV**

That was one of the nicer memories, how fucked up was that? Dean didn't often think of his past, at least not willingly.

He kept his eyes shut and focused on keeping his breathing evened out. He wasn't alone.

"Somebody could have told me"! Punk was angry. He heard some shuffling and recognised the second speaker as Randy, who had come to drop off a bag and some clothes before heading to the arena. Seth and Roman had been caught in traffic and were running late.

The viper looked over at Dean, and wondered how he was sleeping through this. Fuck it, he wasn't waking him. Let the poor kid sleep. He grabbed Punk's arm and pulled him to the door. Dean could still hear them.

"It wasn't our place to tell. Besides, it's not like any of us could get in touch with you, you just disappeared! No contact, no online presence nothing"!

"You could have left a message, or spoken to Paul or AJ, they could have told me", Punk argued.

"Right, OK, well in that case I'll jump back in my time machine and tell past me to look up your sorry ass instead of taking care of my boy and trying to help him keep Dean from self-destructing. Obviously that should have been my number one priority"! Randy's voice was dripping with venomous sarcasm. "We tried calling you, what was it the voicemail said? Oh yeah, if this is anyone from the WWE, fuck off and get fucked".

Randy took a deep breath and attempted to calm down. "Listen, for all we knew, you wouldn't have cared even if we managed to get through to you. We were worried about Dean, he was the priority".

"And clearly you were all doing a fantastic job with that"!

Bang! Randy had just pushed Punk into the wall. Phil grunted and shifted shooting daggers at Randy.

"Don't give me that shit, just because you fucked up", Randy growled. "You have no right to judge any of us, we did everything we could. You were the one who left and we had to pick up the pieces".

"Let go of me", Punk said slowly. Randy loosened his grip and Punk stepped away from him. "Yeah, I did walk away and I regret it. You think I like seeing him with Christian"?

"Christian? He's not with Christian"!

"What"?

"I don't know where the fuck you're getting your information from Punk. Jay found him after he'd had a breakdown, talked him round and helped him stop hurting himself. He's been taking care of Dean that's all", Randy spat. "He has been completely and totally loyal to you, even after you treated him like shit. Jay took over the Dom duties you neglected. Having a sub is about more than sex Phil, you have responsibilities to Dean. He's been hurt enough".

Randy reached over and picked up his jacket. "I've got to go. Just think about it. I get your angry, but for fuck sake, get off the pedestal and get a reality check. Shape up, because he loves you and he wants you as his dom. I have no idea why". Randy left.

**Punk's Pov**

I think what gets me angry is that I know he's right. I'm just too gutless to admit it.

**Dean's Pov**

I know Punk is still there. I can hear his sneakers squeaking against the floor. He hasn't come back across to the bed and eventually I hear his footsteps falling away. I crack open my left eye and see him leave the room. I let out a sigh and get out the bed. My joints are stiff as hell and I feel like a massive bruise. It's past lunchtime and I'm starving. But I am sick with nerves, no surprise there.

I know people will hate me for this; I know this is incredibly unfair; I know I should stay and fix this situation. There should be a resolution. But I just can't deal with the look in his eyes. I've fallen further than I ever have; I stink of cigarette smoke and I can taste the stale tobacco on the back of my throat. My eyes are bloodshot and I look like I had a rough night. My mouth is dry from the alcohol. I'm too far from his perfection, I will stain it. I need to leave, regroup. I can't face him like this. I think people would understand, at least I like to think they would.

He's seen my scars; he knows everything. He has seen how broken I am, and if I need to stand here and see the disappointment in his eyes, I'll break even further. The icing on this fuck up of a cake is that Randy has essentially bared my soul. I've been rejected once, I don't know if I can face it again. I don't want to justify myself to him. I'm not a coward, and I don't run, but I do pick my fights.

I picked up the backpack Randy left and a few items off the table, checked outside the room and snuck out

**Roman's POV**

God, everything hurt. Try wrestling on a couple of hours sleep, I dare you.

Sheamus and Randy were meeting us later at the hospital. Seth and I arrived back at the three bed suite we had booked for the Shield and went inside. Seth grunted and flopped down on the bed. I cracked my neck and started leafing through my suitcase.

"OK, quick showers and then we go", I instructed.

"You think Dean will give us any of that morphine he's on"? Seth moaned. I chuckled and headed to the bathroom, only to trip up and fall flat on my face.

"Rome? You OK"?

"Who the fuck left this backpack here"? Seriously, between the five of them, they were going to send me to an early grave.

Seth shrugged and his phone beeped. He opened the text message and shot off the bed.

"Shit, Roman, Dean ran away"!

"What do you mean he ran away"?

"Randy just texted. Dean broke out the hospital earlier today. When they arrived Punk was tearing the nurses a new one".

"Where was he"?

"He had stepped out to get a soda and a snack while Dean was sleeping. When he came back, Dean was gone along with all his stuff", Seth frantically texted back. "We better go, maybe we should call the cops"-

"Seth, was this before or after Randy went to the hospital"? I asked slowly.

"After, Randy said he dropped off Dean's- Ooooh", Seth's mouth rounded as he caught onto what I was getting at. I picked up the backpack and stalked across to the furthest away of the adjoining rooms.

Mindful of his injured ribs, I tossed the bag at the sleeping lump in the bed.

"Tell Randy we found him and he's OK".

**Normal POV**

Dean jolted awake with a start. "What the fuck"?

"Yeah, what the fuck is right", Roman growled approaching the bed. Seth poked his head through the door.

"Told him. Can I go jump in the shower while you tell him off"?

Roman waved Seth away who gave a sympathetic little wave to Dean who gulped as he looked up at Roman.

"Why didn't you wait to get discharged"?

"Well…why did you guys leave me with Punk huh"? Dean answered back sarcastically.

"Is that all you can say? You know what, get through there right now", Roman stood to one side and pointed through to the living room. Dean sighed and kicked off the bed. Like a scolded puppy he walked into the main suite and sat on the couch. Roman paced before him and tried to regain his temper.

"Damnit Dean, you can't keep running. A few days ago, you were willing to talk to him", Roman sighed exasperated.

"Things change".

"Like what"?

"Like he knows everything, every single little sordid detail about the last couple of months. Can you blame me for running"? Dean shot back. "He'll think I'm pathetic". He put his head in his hands and sighed.

Roman sat down next to him and looked at him. "No he won't, and if he says anything like that I will beat him down. And if you say it again, you get the same".

Dean stared at him for a few moments before the pair of them broke down into a fit of laughs.

"Ow, ow, Ok, let's stop", Dean gasped, as he rubbed his torso.

"You alright"? Roman asked.

"Yeah man. It hurt worse when you speared me", Dean smirked.

"For the last time, that was an accident"!

Seth came in rubbing his hair with a towel and dressed in a pair of sweats.

"Are you two done or should I hide behind the couch"?

"We're good".

The three sat around joking for a bit longer until they heard a key card enter the lock. Sheamus and Randy walked in and greeted the other three.

"Uh, Dean there is something you should"-

"Where is he"?

Dean froze in his seat. Punk was right behind them and he did not look happy at all. Furious green eyes fixed on him and Dean felt his own stare falter. He swallowed and looked down. This was it. This was the look from Punk he had been dreading. Punk's next words shook him to the core. A strange mixture of fear, arousal and lust. The dominance was clear in Punk's tone and he would not be denied.

"You get in the bedroom now"…


End file.
